


Open Window

by Miles_2_Go



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Dick Grayson Tries to Be a Good Older Sibling, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Exhaustion, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd-centric, Mother Hen Dick Grayson, Protective Older Brothers, Sleep Deprivation, Stubborn Jason Todd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:46:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29995467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miles_2_Go/pseuds/Miles_2_Go
Summary: Jason overworks himself and Dick picks up the pieces.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Comments: 8
Kudos: 116





	Open Window

**Author's Note:**

> Short spontaneous hiatus from my other works, sorry if you follow those. New meds are kicking my butt. Back soon, though.
> 
> Wrote this on my phone at 3 a.m. cause it was rattling around in my head. No editing.

Jason stumbled through the window of one of his Gotham safe houses and dropped heavily onto the ratty old couch against the wall near the window. He'd pushed the couch in that spot for this exact reason—easily accessible on nights when he stumbled or fell through the window rather than climbed.

He reached up and fumbled clumsily with the latches on his helmet. The seal released with a quiet hiss and he tossed the helmet aside, not at all concerned with where it ended up landing.

He didn't remember listing wearily against the arm of the couch, but he found himself jerking awake as a boot tapped lightly against the side of his own.

He blinked groggily up at Dick and wiped a hand across his face, grimacing when he realized he'd done so with a grimy glove still on.

"Lucky I didn't shoot you, Dickhead. Knock or somethin' next time."

Dick raised an eyebrow at him. He still wore his full Nightwing getup, domino and all. Jason could see the dark circles under his eyes, deep enough to be visible from extending out below the mask. His hair was damp with sweat and there was soot smeared on his cheek.

"You left the window open."

Jason blinked at Dick. Blinked over at the window that Dick had graciously closed behind him.

"Oh."

Dick crouched down in front of Jason, but didn't move too close. "Where are you hurt?"

Jason let his head thunk back against the back of the couch. "Not hurt. 'M fine."

"Jay, don't make me poke you. I  _ will _ poke you until I find your injuries."

Jason swatted away the finger Dick had started to extend toward his torso. His aim was off and it took him more than one swipe, to his embarrassment.

"No touching," he growled, letting his head fall back again and closing his eyes. "Seriously. Jus' a few bruises. Scratched my wrist on some broken glass. 'Snot even deep. Go away now."

"Let me see the cut. You need to clean it."

"It's not  _ deep, _ Dick. It's  _ fine. _ Sleep now, bandaid later. Go home."

"Jay...I'm sorry we weren't here."

Jason sighed heavily and lifted his head just enough to look at Dick with one eye cracked open.

"Can we do the apology tour later? This is the first time I've got to sit down in 76 hours."

Dick winced. It was maybe a bit of a low blow, and the bite Jason hadn't been able to keep out of his tone only made it worse. But he couldn't help it. It was true and he was exhausted. He didn't want to deal with Dick's guilt right now. Half of Gotham was in ruins and  _ no one _ but Jason, Tim, and Barbara had been in town. Not Bruce, not Dick. Steph, Cass, Duke, Damian...all off doing their own thing. Even the extended family was nowhere to be found. Kate? Selina? Helena? Luke? Gone. Busy. Whatever.  _ No help, _ that's all that mattered to Jason.

And in the end it had taken most of them days to get back.  _ Days _ that Jason and Tim had almost literally run themselves into the ground. Barbara, too, had exhausted herself even though she wasn't out there pounding pavement with the two of them.

Sure, they'd shown up eventually. Dick must have been tired, too, he'd been out there for over 24 hours himself, but it was nothing compared to what Jason and Tim had put themselves through.

Jason found himself blinking at Dick again, his eyes felt like they were full of sand and his head was full of cotton. "Wait, Tim made it back, didn't he? He was—" He sat up straighter, and just that action made the blood drain from his head and his vision swim a little. "He has a broken wrist, he was having trouble grappling, did he—"

Dick pushed Jason back against the couch. It didn't take a lot of effort. "Jay, he's fine, relax. You talked to him, remember? He's already all cleaned up and in bed. He talked you into coming here.  _ He _ sent me after  _ you." _

Oh. He'd talked to Tim? He definitely did not remember doing that. Come to think of it, he also didn't remember deciding to come to this safe house.

Which only helped to further his argument, really. Sleep now. Bandaid later.

"Mm. Okay, then. Goodnight." His head thunked back against the couch again.

He heard a sigh and felt a light touch on his wrist. His glove was peeled off and his sleeve pulled back gently. He didn't protest. He didn't have the energy to keep his eyes open anymore, much less lift his head to glare. The hand was lowered back to the couch cushion and he felt the touch on his other wrist. Again, the glove was peeled off, the sleeve pushed up his arm. The touch hesitated as Dick obviously found the offending wound. Jason felt the familiar cold sting of antiseptic on the cut. He didn't remember when Dick had gotten up to search for the first aid kit. That was concerning. He was only still conscious right now through sheer force of paranoia, and the lapse was frustrating. Sure he was good with his family now, but that didn't mean he could so easily let himself sleep around any of them. Especially not after his brain was still so wound up from over three days of going non-stop. He didn't have the energy to force himself to relax and tell his instincts to chill out.

He'd sleep when Dick was back out the window. When he was alone.

He was startled out of his thoughts when something small and cool was pressed into the hand on his non-injured arm. He closed his fingers around the object on reflex. He held it up at eye level and managed to lift an eyelid enough to study it. A bottle of industrial-strength solvent. The kind they used to dissolve the adhesive that held their domino masks on.

Dick gestured at the mask that Jason wore under his helmet. "You'll get a rash if you don't get that thing off. You've had it on too long already."

Jason groaned, but Dick wasn't wrong. Those rashes made putting another mask back on later a bitch and a half.

He sprayed the solvent on the edges of the mask and worked it off gently. He dropped it and the bottle onto the couch and closed his eyes again.

"'kay. Thanks, mom. Bye."

He didn't jolt this time when he felt another touch. His body was starting to shut itself down now, his nerves and reflexes already treacherously abandoning him. He felt deft fingers working at the laces on his boots and working them off his aching feet. Sweat-damp socks came off next and he did not at all care that Dick probably got a nose full of three-and-a-half days worth of foot odor.

Then came a hand on his shoulder, pushing and pulling at him slightly to lift his back off the couch just enough to pull his leather jacket off. Blissfully cool air caressed the sweaty skin of his arms and he bit back a relieved groan. He'd regretted not wearing his usual armored, long-sleeved undershirt beneath his jacket when he'd been out there taking hits, but he suddenly now found himself deciding that the T-shirt he'd hastily thrown on after hearing the first explosion had been a genius choice of attire.

He heard the whisper quiet sound of Dick leaving the room, some shuffling around in the kitchen, and then Dick was back, accompanied by the cracking sound of the seal of a plastic bottle being broken as the cap was twisted off.

"Can you drink this under your own power or do I need to help you?"

Jason huffed, but reached out a hand and groped blindly for the bottle that Dick held out. He didn't even open his eyes to check what it was before he was gulping it down greedily. He was half way through the bottle before the distinct powdery artificial tang of Gatorade finally hit his taste buds. He didn't care enough to try and process what flavor it might be.

He heard Dick catch the mostly-empty bottle as it slipped through his clumsy fingers.

He had to admit. Through the aching, bone weary exhaustion, he maybe felt a tiny bit better.

Distantly, he felt his legs being lifted and his body being twisted so that he was horizontal on the couch. A worn throw pillow was tucked beneath his pounding head.

"Babs is okay, too. I know you'd have asked if you weren't so out of it. Cass and Steph are with her."

Jason hummed in acknowledgement. He was glad she was okay. He shouldn't have forgotten to ask. She'd been their lifeline. They would never have saved as many people as they had if she hadn't been their eyes and ears. They'd be lost without her.

A hand brushed briefly through his hair. "The three of you did great, Jay. Thank you. I'll apologize more later."

The sound of sirens outside, briefly, as the window slid open.

Then it closed again with a quiet click. And Jason was alone again.

He ignored the strange cold feeling that suddenly settled over him and let exhaustion pull him under.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment. <3


End file.
